


Noah's First Date

by motherbearof3



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Barba's suspender and tie collections, Benson and Barba are married, Carisi likes balloons, F/M, Family, First Dates, Olivia's birthday, Teenagers, brief mention of the episode that shall not be named, parenting, seventeen year old Noah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherbearof3/pseuds/motherbearof3
Summary: Noah is about to go out on his first date but a misunderstanding results in the need for a father son conversation.





	Noah's First Date

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this because the boy my daughter asked to the dance at our high school next weekend (called a MORP) is named Noah. Also because Olivia's birthday was last week. It started out as fluff but evolved into something a little more angsty. With a happy ending of course.

“What’s a morp?”

Olivia stuck her head out of the bathroom where she was brushing her teeth.

“A what?”

“A morp. Noah’s phone was on the counter and I saw a text come in — I wasn’t snooping, it was right there while I was getting some cookies!” Rafael said defensively in response to her raised eyebrow. “And it said something about the morp.”

Olivia finished her bedtime ablutions and walked into the bedroom, smoothing moisturizer on her face and neck. Even after eleven years of marriage, she was still as beautiful to him as the day Captain Harris introduced them, and Rafael never failed to kick himself for wasting too many years to tell her how he felt.

“It’s prom spelled backwards and the Valentine’s Dance at school. Also kind of a Sadie Hawkins Dance,” she explained, removing her robe to reveal her still shapely figure in the boxers she pilfered from him years ago and a tank top, and climbed in on her side of the bed. “Did someone ask him?”

“I don’t know. All I saw was the word morp and the name Amy. Because I wasn’t snooping. And the screen went dark,” her husband admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Amy? She’s that cute sophomore. She’s in the band. Plays a lot of instruments, according to Noah.”

“Should we ask him about it?” Rafael wondered, turning out the light and rolling over.

Olivia spooned behind him and put an arm around his middle, resting it in the center of his chest. She kissed his shoulder; the spot where she knew there was a sprinkling of freckles, even though it was dark and she couldn’t see them. Slotting one leg between his, she hooked an ankle around his.

“No. He’ll tell us if he gets asked.”

Noah did. The next night at dinner.

“ _Mijo,_ no phones at the table,” Rafael reminded him when the boy pulled his from his pocket.

“I know, Dad, but do you have a pair of suspenders that would go with this?”

The teenager turned his phone around to display a photo. Rafael took the device from him and slipped on his reading glasses to look at what appeared to be a swatch of floral print fabric in navy and white. Enlarging the image with his fingers to see the small patches of contrasting light blue, he looked at his son and nodded.

“I’m sure I have a couple pair that would look nice. And if I don’t, we can get you a pair that does. I assume this is a young lady’s dress?”

“Yeah. It’s all the girls will let me see. She — Amy — got it for the Morp,” Noah told his parents. No one wears a suit, but I don’t think any of my suspenders will work.”

Olivia bit her lip from smiling too broadly. At seventeen, Noah had a few pairs of suspenders but none of them were the bold colors or prints that his father had.

“Amy is the girl who asked you?” his mother inquired.

“Yes. The dance is on the 16th. I should get her flowers, right? Can you order them for me?”

“Of course. Do you want a wrist corsage or one that pins on her dress?”

Noah looked at her blankly. Olivia patted her son’s hand. “Never mind. I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay, thanks, Mom. Dad, can we look at your suspenders after dinner?”

When Noah was twelve, they moved out of the city and bought a house and that year for her husband’s birthday, Olivia had their walk in closet remodeled, adding two shallow drawers with built in dividers for his suspender collection. Now, father and son stood before them, gazing at the offerings. Rafael immediately closed the one that contained solid colored ones.

“If you’re not wearing a jacket, might as well choose something a little more flashy,” he said. Noah nodded in agreement.

“What about these?” Noah picked up a pair that were navy paisley.

“Those are good, but what about these?” Rafael held out another pair, also navy; also paisley, but with the tiniest accents of bright pink. “Her dress is navy, right? Then mom could get pink tea roses for the corsage.”  
  
“Tea roses?”

His father went on, ignoring the question.

“But what tie? What tie?” Rafael mused.

He opened a nearby door to reveal his even larger than suspender collection of neckties; all hung and grouped by color. Then he paused and turned to look at Noah.

“Are you even going to wear a tie? How formal is this dance? You could just wear a shirt and suspenders. Your mom always likes that look.”

Rafael bumped his shoulder to his son’s upper arm. They hadn’t been shoulder to shoulder in a while. Noah had grown taller than both he and Olivia early into his teens, just the man had predicted years before. The boy rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know about a tie. Let me look,” he said and reached in to turn on the light inside the closet.

As the teen perused the options, Rafael considered his mild innuendo the moment before and realized this was his son’s first real date. They’d had several conversations about sex and consent before. You couldn’t be the child of an SVU Captain and the District Attorney without learning those lessons young. But a light reminder was probably in order. The man backed up and leaned against the footboard of his bed, trying to be casual and realizing he was probably going to fail.

“So this girl. Amy, is it? Do you like her?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t have said I’d go to the dance with her if I didn’t,” came the reply, as Noah moved aside a rack of ties. “I mean, yeah, I like her. She’s funny and cute. And she’s really smart. She takes all AP classes. As a sophomore!”

“Okay so I know we’ve talked about this before, but this is your first real date,” Rafael said, pausing when he saw his son stiffen.

Noah turned around, clearly annoyed and it was reflected in his blue eyes.

“Yes. We’ve _absolutely_ talked about this before. For _years_. I understand nothing means yes except the word yes, no means no, and that I also have to right to say no,” he said. Then, “You know, I think I’ll just wear a pair of my own suspenders.”

The teen turned and left his parents’ bedroom, passing Olivia, who had decided to come see what had been chosen.

“What was that about? Did I hear him say he was just going to wear his own suspenders?” she asked.

Rafael ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair and exhaled sharply.

“Yes, that’s what he said and I think I just lost some parent points.”

Rafael told her about the exchange between him and Noah, his brow furrowing at the thought of having created a rift between him and the teen. Since he was small, the two of them had always been able to talk about anything. This was the first time his son had gotten annoyed at him for broaching a subject.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Olivia offered, putting a hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“No. This is between him and I.” He shook his head. “I’m going to let it go for now.”

Noah remained in his room the rest of the evening, not even emerging to say good night, as he usually did. Olivia opened the door around 11 p.m. and he was sound asleep. She crossed to the bed and brushed curls back from his forehead before bending to kiss it.

“Good night, sweet boy,” she whispered.

As she straightened the covers, something fell off the bed onto her foot. Eddie. Noah really must be upset if he had taken Eddie to bed with him. These days, as he had since Noah went to middle school, Eddie usually spent his nights on a shelf and returned to the bed in the morning once it was made. Olivia picked up the well loved elephant and put him back under the blanket next to Noah. Giving one last glance to her son who looked like a man but was still somewhat a boy, she shut the door behind her and returned to the master bedroom. Rafael’s eyes were closed, but she knew he was still awake. Thinking about Noah, she also knew. After turning out the light and climbing under the covers beside him, she said,

“He took Eddie to bed with him, Rafa.”

The man’s eyes flew open.

“He did? Liv, what did I do? I didn’t say anything — start to say anything I haven’t said to him since he started high school and began looking twice at girls.”

“I know, my love. I know.” She put her head on his shoulder and rubbed comforting circles on his chest. “You need to talk to him.”

Olivia felt him nod and press a kiss to her head.

“Tomorrow. My calendar is clear in the afternoon. I was going to surprise you with lunch for your birthday, but I’ll pick him up from school instead.”

“Do that. I don’t need reminded I’m another year older.”

She tilted her head and kissed his jaw and felt him laugh silently.

“Don’t be mad at Carisi, then, if your office is filled with balloons.”

“Shit.”

Olivia repeated that word the next morning when she entered the squad room and could see the colorful, helium filled globes bobbing in her office even from a distance.

“Morning, Lu —, er, Captain.” Carisi still hadn’t gotten used to calling her Captain, and if she was honest, Olivia wasn’t sure she was used to being called Captain. Captain was Don Cragen. He smiled broadly. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks, Carisi.” She couldn’t help but smile back. The detective’s smile, much like her husband’s was infectious.

When Olivia opened the door, several balloons floated out at her. She batted them away, laughing.

“Don’t tell me there’s the right number of balloons in here? I won’t be able to get to my desk.”

“I was gonna do this last year -- milestone birthday you know? But Rafael took you away and when you came back we got busy and….” He spread his hands.

She nodded. Her husband had taken her away to celebrate her 60th birthday the year before to make up for her 50th being “memorable but not in a good way,” he’d said when he presented her with the tickets to Venice, referring to the year he was prosecuted for turning off the life support on baby Drew Householder. Shaking her head to clear away that memory, Olivia shouldered her way into the room, pushing aside the balloons that made soft musical sounds as they bumped against each other and the ceiling.

“Happy Birthday, Liv! Dominick, I told you to have them in bunches on weights if you were going to do this!”

Amanda appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips. He shrugged.

“Okay, okay. While this was a lovely, amusing gesture, why don’t you two round up some uni’s and take these balloons to the children’s ward? I think they’ll enjoy them more than me,” their captain suggested. Then she snapped a few photos to send Rafael.

He laughed out loud when he saw them and replied she should send them to his mom and Noah as well. Maybe it would get a smile out of their son. The teen had been up and out the door to school that morning with few words to them. Rafael hadn’t mentioned picking him up that afternoon; intending to surprise him so Noah couldn’t object or sneak away from school before he got there.

Early afternoon, a text appeared on their family group chat from Noah reminding his parents he was starting weight training for baseball that day after school, he’d be home later and would let them know when he arrived, as was their custom. That gave Rafael longer to think about what he was going to say to his son. He was waiting outside the athletic complex when the teen came out, his hair damp and curlier than ever from showering, his backpack over his shoulder and gym bag and winter coat in his hand still too warm to put it on, regardless of the February temperatures. Noah stopped short, seeing his father standing there in casual clothes, which he had taken the opportunity to change into with the extra time between when his day ended and needing to be at the school.

“Dad. What are you doing here?”

The man straightened from where he’d been leaning against a light pole.

“We need to talk about what’s bothering you. When you take Eddie to bed at night, _mijo_ , I know you’re upset about something.”

“Fine.”

Noah turned and started to walk toward the parking lot. He knew his father wasn’t going let it go. He was surprised it had taken him this long. He honestly had expected to be followed into his room the night before. When he wasn’t; when they’d left him alone, Noah’s fear of what his parents thought about him was enough to make him get his stuffed elephant off the shelf and cuddle him until he fell asleep.

Rafael hurried to catch up with him. The teen’s longer legs and head start had him more than halfway to the car by the time he drew aside him and pressed the button to unlock the doors. Noah opened the back door, threw his bags inside and closed the door. Then he shrugged on his letterman jacket and climbed into the passenger seat. Turning to look at his father, he said,

“Okay.”

“You want to talk here?” Rafael had joined him in the car, behind the wheel.

“If we go home, how will I get to school tomorrow?” He tipped his chin in the direction of where his car, purchased from one of his Abuela’s friends when she had to give up driving, was parked.

“I’ll bring you back in the morning. But I don’t want to talk in the car. If you don’t want to go home we can go to -- “ he thought for a moment and then named a nearby restaurant. It was where he used to take Noah for dinner sometimes when they first moved and Olivia had to stay in the city late because of a case. As a child, Noah had loved the milkshakes, because they came in the old fashioned metal container they’d been mixed in. On a weekday at the time it was, the place wouldn’t be busy.

“That’s fine.”

Neither said anything on the short drive to the restaurant, which, as Rafael had thought, was nearly empty. He led the way to a booth at the back where they would have some privacy. Noah declined to order anything, but Rafael ordered them each a chocolate milkshake. Once they arrived, however, the teen drew the long spoon out and took a large bite of the ice cream. Then he looked at the man across the table.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Noah,” his father began, “you and I have been able to talk about anything. Ever since you were little. It was me you told that you were afraid Mom wasn’t actually going to show up like Sheila said she would. And I was the one you told when Jeremy was giving you a hard time at school because your last name wasn’t the same as mine before I adopted you.

“So please. Tell me what has you so upset. I didn’t say anything last night -- I didn’t even finish saying anything I haven’t said to you since we first talked about sex and intimacy.”

Noah lifted his head from where he’d been staring at the streaks of chocolate syrup down the insides of his milkshake glass. His blue eyes were full of confusion and concern.

“Exactly. You’ve been telling me those things for years. _Years_. Did you think I didn’t understand what you were saying? Or did you keep repeating it because you were afraid I’d turn out like my --”

Noah cut himself off. He couldn’t call the man who contributed to his existence his father. No, the man sitting opposite him was his father.

“Did you keep telling me to make sure I didn’t turn out like Johnny Drake?” His voice almost cracked on the last word.

Rafael’s green eyes widened. Noah’s birth father was the last thing he thought was the source of the problem. Sheila Porter had forced Olivia’s hand into telling Noah about being adopted, but she’d been selective about details until he was older. Even then, all she’d said about his birth father was he was dead. As he grew, there had been occasional random questions that the two of them answered the best they could without revealing all the sordid facts. It wasn’t until the past fall when he’d been assigned to do a detailed genealogy project that Noah asked for more information and his parents decided he was old enough to hear them. They all cried together over the story of Ellie and how her addiction kept her from being strong enough to testify, resulting in her death and Noah listened in horror when they told him about Johnny Drake’s trial and how he flipped the table, took the court officer’s gun and shot several people before Detective Nick Amaro shot and killed him, getting wounded in return.

Olivia and Rafael made sure to emphasize to Noah, as they had for the last eleven years and before, that it wasn’t his DNA that made him who he was and formed his beliefs and personality, but them, his Abuela and his extended family of aunts and uncles. At the time, after processing all the new information, he seemed to have been all right with it and got an A on the assignment. The subject of his birth parents hadn’t come up again since.

“Noah. _Mijo_.”

Rafael reached across the worn Formica to grasp his son’s hands. They were trembling. Now he wished they had gone home. He wanted to take the boy into his arms like he had when he was small and hold him close. He cursed that genealogy assignment. He and Olivia had gone round and round when Noah came home and told them about it. He had been opposed to giving Noah anything more than Johnny Drake’s name as his birth father. Give him a fake name, even, he said. Make up a story. When he adopted Noah, his birth certificate changed to list Rafael as his father. Even if he found his original one, Ellie hadn’t listed Drake.

_“Rafa,” she’d said, sounding so much like she had the day he tried to tell her she didn’t have to name the man as Noah’s birth father on the adoption papers, “you know lying doesn’t work out well for me.”_

“Noah,” he repeated, speaking quietly and intently, holding his hands tightly, “I have never thought that. _Ever._

“You are my son. Mine and your mother’s. You were hers first, but somewhere, deep down, I wanted you to be mine from the moment I met you. It didn’t -- doesn’t matter whose cells came together to create you. You are my son. Not Johnny Drake’s.

“He was a vicious and violent man. You are kind and caring. You could never do anything he did. Think the way he did.”

Noah’s eyes were bright as he looked at Rafael.

“Then why?”

“Why did I start to bring up the subject of consent with you before your first real date with a girl?”

Noah nodded and his father’s face broke into a huge smile and he shook his head.

“Because you’re seventeen, I wash your sheets and I know how much time you spend in the shower each day, _mijo_.”

Rafael chuckled as Noah’s face flushed dark red.

“I also am not so old that I don’t remember how it’s easy for your feelings to get tangled up and override logical thought. When your mom and I first started dating -- “

“Dad!”

“Okay, sorry.” He chuckled again and released his son’s hands. “But do you get it now? Your mother and I wanting you to understand about being respectful and getting consent has nothing to do with your genetic heritage.”

The teen nodded, reaching for his milkshake and taking a long pull on the straw. Then he looked at his father, the familiar sparkle back in his blue eyes.

“I’m starved. Can we get some food?”

A week later, Noah and his parents got out of their respective cars at a modest house not far from their own. Since he was picking up Amy, Olivia insisted on tagging along so she could take pictures. The teen protested at first until he got a look from his father behind his mother’s back that said, _“Indulge her. She’s your mother.”_ As they stood at the front door, Rafael reached out and straightened his son’s suspenders on his back. Noah ended up opting for the ones with the pink accents, paired with a pale blue shirt and navy trousers. Olivia ordered a wrist corsage of bright pink tea roses and baby’s breath on a navy ribbon. The door opened, introductions were made and the parents snapped away until the teenagers began to protest that they needed to meet up with friends at another house for more photos. In their own car, Noah’s parents watched the young couple drive away. Rafael reached for his wife’s hand and brought it to his lips.

“Did you go to a lot of dances in high school?” he asked, wondering what teenaged Olivia looked like in a fancy dress with flowers on her wrist.

She shook her head.

“Not one. I wanted to, of course. But I couldn’t relate to the boys my age.” Olivia shrugged. “And college boys don’t want to go to high school dances.”

She looked at him as he maneuvered the car through the streets back home.

“What about you?”

“Me neither. My parents couldn’t afford to rent me a tux and I had to save all my money for college. Didn’t know I was going to get that scholarship,” he replied. “Besides, I didn’t always like girls who were taller than me.” Her husband winked at her.

Rafael parked the car in their driveway and turned to face her, reaching into the backseat, coming back with a single rose. He offered it to her with that familiar lopsided smile.

“I have that tux now. Will you be my prom date, Liv?”

She took the flower from him and leaned across the seat to kiss him.

“Always, Rafa.”


End file.
